


Manogram

by katbear



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-14
Updated: 2006-04-14
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:05:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katbear/pseuds/katbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys have to go in for some extra medical tests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manogram

**Author's Note:**

> Author: KatBear (katbear@cox.net)  
> Archive: MA, AO3  
> Category: Angsty humor  
> Rating: PG13  
> Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Qui-Gon Jinn  
> Feedback: Appreciated.  
> Thanks: To the beta reader who made this a better story (Bonny). All mistakes are my own. And thanks to the unknown artist who created the cartoon that was posted on the scanning machine that inspired this bit of fluff.  
> Warnings: None.  
> Spoilers: None, pre-TPM.  
> Disclaimer: The boys belong to George Lucas, I'm just playing with them.

Obi-Wan leaned down to plant a kiss on Qui-Gon's cheek as his master was working at the data terminal, then leaned in a bit further to nuzzle his neck and nibble on his ear. Disappointed by the lack of response, he whispered enticingly, "Would you like to practice your focus while I suck your cock, Master?"

"Perhaps later, Padawan," Qui-Gon replied, seemingly oblivious to his apprentice's blandishments. He waited three beats, still focused on the terminal; just long enough to be sure Obi-Wan's face had settled into a pout. He grinned slyly and poked an elbow in Obi-Wan's ribs as he remarked, "Didn't the creche master ever tell you that your face will freeze like that if you do it often enough?"

Obi-Wan tried to hold the pout but ended up laughing. He hugged his lover as he planted another kiss on his cheek. "If there's nothing pressing we've got an hour until our reservation at the training salle," he said with a suggestive leer.

"I suppose I should give you credit for *your* focus today," Qui-Gon replied. "Normally I'd be tempted to indulge you, but I'm afraid it appears our afternoon plans have been pre-empted." He pointed to the screen. "A new virus has slipped through the medical protocols and is spreading across two sectors. They have named it GreJoux. Looks quite unpleasant and is said to be particularly painful with over 80% fatality rate."

Obi-Wan looked at the pictures on the terminal: bloated appendages, numerous pustules oozing thin green muck, skin split open and black gums. "Eeeuugghh," he grimaced, "that does look nasty."

"Apparently it is only observable in males during the incubation stage, so the Council has ordered all male humanoids to report to the healers for testing. Priority is to everyone who was in the Grebeldor quadrant in the last six months."

"We were out there just last month," Obi-Wan groaned.

"Very good observation, Padawan. That puts us in the first group so we have to be at the test site today between now and latemeal. I suggest we may as well get it over with now, and perhaps we can still get in some sparring this afternoon."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan looked disgusted but obediently went to fetch their cloaks.

****** *****

About two dozen male Jedi were in the healer’s waiting room, most busily filling out several forms on clipboards. Obi-Wan finished checking off the last question and signed with a small flourish. After turning in his forms, he returned to his seat and scanned through one of the ancient varietypads.

A padawan healer appeared through a side door. "Ving, Jinn and Kenobi?"

The three Jedi stood up.

"This way, please." The apprentice led them back through the door. "We've had to set up additional temporary testing facilities, so please excuse the partition cubicles." She assigned each man to a numbered stall. "Please disrobe, use the cleanser as directed to remove any potential external contaminants such as soap or powder, then wait until you are called. We are also short of gowns, but you can use a towel if you wish."

Obi-Wan went into the small space and slid the curtain across the entrance. There was a chair and small table inside. A white towel was on the chair. He took his clothes off and neatly folded them into a small pile, wishing it was several degrees warmer. On the table was a basket of small spray bottles. He studied the instructions briefly, snorted at the term 'other potential genital contaminants', then picked up one of the small bottles and removed the cap. He put one foot on the chair, held his penis out with one hand and with the other began spraying.

The alcohol-based cleaner hit the apprentice's tender skin with a stinging chill. Obi-Wan sucked in a sharp breath and had to bite back a loud curse. He quickly decided he was quite clean enough, thank you very much, and tossed the recapped bottle back in the basket. He muttered more choice words to himself when he attempted to wrap the towel around his waist and found it was about two sizes too small. Still, it was better than nothing for sitting on the bare metal folding chair so he did his best to tie two corners together to hold it up.

Several more chilly minutes passed before there was a discreet cough outside the curtain. Obi-Wan stood up and pulled the curtain back. Another padawan healer was standing outside. "Please bring your clothes and come with me, Padawan Kenobi," she said.

Obi-Wan followed her past the long row of temporary cubicles, around a corner, down another hall, and another corner. As they passed a closed door there was a sharp yelp. Obi-Wan looked uneasily back over his shoulder as they continued down the hall. They finally stopped outside an open door.

"Padawan Kenobi, Master," announced the apprentice healer.

A female master looked up from adjusting a large machine. "Please come in. You can put your clothes on that chair."

Obi-Wan put his clothes down and stood waiting uncertainly, feeling a bit conspicuous in the small towel. At least it was almost warm in the room.

The healer finally finished tinkering and straightened. She reached into a box on a counter, pulled out a pair of flexible gloves and began pulling them on. "Good afternoon. I am Master Zheraa. I assume you have been briefed on the new virus?" She tugged the gloves into place and released the edges with a loud snap.

"Yes, Master Zheraa."

"Good. The virus appears to settle into the male reproductive system. We have been able to modify this existing diagnostic equipment to take images using a frequency that reveals deposits of the virus. To get the proper images I will need to place your reproductive organs between these plates, tighten the plates, and you will need to stay absolutely still while the images are being made. Do you understand?"

"Uh, what did you mean by 'tighten the plates', Master Zheraa?" Obi-Wan looked dubiously at the large machine as he remembered the yelp he had heard earlier.

"The top plate is lowered to hold the organs in place." The healer had a slight smile on her face. "Is there a problem, Padawan Kenobi? Surely you aren't worried about a little pressure, are you? After all, most older women have their breasts scanned on this machine every year."

"No problem at all, Master Zheraa." Obi-Wan was careful to use his most respectful tone, as he was beginning to get a very bad feeling that this was a person he definitely did not want to have irritated with him for the next several minutes.

"Good." She rubbed her gloved hands together a bit too gleefully for Obi-Wan's comfort. "We will need several images, so we will start with the simplest one. Please remove your towel and place your feet on these marks. Stand as close to the machine as you can."

Obi-Wan tossed the towel onto his pile of clothes, then stepped up to the machine, flinching a bit when his penis encountered the cold metal of the bottom plate.

"Now, I'm going to position your penis on the plate." The healer pulled the flaccid organ forward, laying it out straight.

Obi-Wan shuddered at the feel of the rubbery material on his private parts.

"We need to ensure we are only getting the penis in this image." She tugged a bit more, then carefully pushed the testicles down. "Now I'm going to slowly lower the top plate."

A low hum sounded as the healer pushed a large switch and the top plate, a thick rectangle of transparent plexisteel, began descending. Obi-Wan looked away as his penis was slowly flattened between the two cold heavy plates.

The hum stopped as the healer released the switch. She stood by Obi-Wan's side and checked the positioning of his penis. "Just a few last adjustments," she said cheerfully as she began rotating a small hand wheel on the top plate.

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth as the plate tightened even further. "Uh, Healer . . ."

"Almost there, Padawan." She made one more turn. "There. Hold that pose." She went to the back of the machine. "On the count of three, hold your breath. One, two, and three."

The machine beeped several times as Obi-Wan held his breath. Finally the healer called time and Obi-Wan released his breath thankfully as the healer flipped the switch to raise the top plate.

"Now we need an image of your testicles. If you'll just hold your penis up against your stomach we'll get you properly positioned."

Before Obi-Wan could protest the healer had pushed him against the machine, pulled his testicles away from his body and was stretching them out on the lower plate. The dreadful hum began again as the top plate began descending. Obi-Wan used both hands to keep his penis out of the machine's clutch and began silently reciting meditation mantras as he fearfully watched the heavy plate continue on its inexorable path.

"There is no pain. There is no pain. There is no pain."

The healer reached for the hand wheel and spun it around a few times.

"There is no pain. There is - Oh Force that hurts." Obi-Wan grunted as the wheel was tightened another half turn. His balls felt like they had gotten caught in a tuber masher and were still stuck in the mechanism.

"Here we go." The healer disappeared behind the machine again. "Don't go anywhere. On the count of three, hold your breath. One, two and three."

The machine beeped again as Obi-Wan dazedly wondered where in the seven hells the healer thought he was going to run off to without ripping off what was left of his poor family jewels.

Finally blessed relief came once more as the beeping stopped and the healer released the plate. Obi-Wan gingerly peeled his flattened testicles off the plate, wincing a bit as he carefully tucked them away.

"Just one more to finish this set," the healer announced. She pushed a heavy lever and the main mechanism began turning until it was almost vertical. "We need to get a side image, which is a bit more difficult."

Obi-Wan gulped. "A side image?" he quavered.

"Yes. Put your right foot here and your left foot up here on this bar." The healer shifted Obi-Wan's hips until he was tight against the machine. "Now reach up and over. . . twist a little, and hang on to this bar."

Feeling a bit like he was supposed to be making love to the now-detested machine, Obi-Wan watched warily as the healer positioned his penis against what was now the left plate.

"This is surgical tape, so it won't hurt coming off," the healer said cheerily as she placed a long strip of clear sticky material over Obi-Wan's penis to secure it in place. "Don't move."

Obi-Wan's grip tightened to a white-knuckled vise as the machine hummed and the right plate closed in on his helpless organ, pressing it into an immobilized blob of flesh. By the final turn of the hand wheel, though, he was becoming distracted by the cramp developing in his lower back.

"Alright, here we go. On the count of three hold your breath. One, two and three."

When the beeping stopped and the healer released the plates, Obi-Wan sagged as he blew out a big breath. He unclamped his fingers from the overhead bar and brought his left leg down to stand flat-footed as he waited.

Master Zheraa carefully removed the tape still restraining the apprentice's penis. "You may sit down if you wish." She pulled the lever to return the mechanism to its normal position, then extracted a flat cassette from the lower plate.

"May I get dressed now?" asked Obi-Wan.

"Not yet. I need to take these images to one of the specialists. She will do the first check to ensure we have what we need. Just wait here for a few minutes." The healer removed her gloves, took the cassette and left.

Obi-Wan moved his clothes from the chair to a small table, then wrapped the little towel around him. For good measure, he put on his undertunic. He sat down carefully, then hunched over, his hands guarding his groin.

The minutes seemed to stretch endlessly as the apprentice waited anxiously. Finally the door opened and the healer came back in.

"May I go now, Master Zheraa?"

"I'm afraid not, Padawan Kenobi. The top shot did not come out very well, so we need to repeat that one."

"But, is this *really* necessary?" He was past embarrassment at the whiny tone of his voice; at this point Obi-Wan felt he would much rather take his chances with the virus.

"Well, if you're truly not up to it," the healer said thoughtfully, "we can stop today and I can schedule you to come back in three days to repeat the entire set of images."

Horrified, Obi-Wan could only gasp soundlessly for a moment. Finally he found his voice and said weakly, "I guess I'd rather get it over with today. Thank you, Master Zheraa."

"I thought you might say that," Zheraa replied dryly. "Please remove your clothes and step up to the machine." She went to a small cabinet, opened the door, and removed several tubes as well as a pair of nonpermeable gloves. She put the gloves on before turning back to speak to Obi-Wan.

"We are going to do this image as a high-contrast image to ensure the best possible quality. I need to put a contrast oil on your penis for this. It stains the skin a darker color for a few days, but it will wear off. Do you have any particular color preference?"

Obi-Wan stared blankly for a moment. "Uh, blue is fine."

"Blue it is, then. Please step up to the machine," she asked again.

Obi-Wan reluctantly moved closer to the scanner as the healer poured a generous amount of light blue oil into one hand. She began rubbing it between her hands.

"Just warming it a bit," the healer said with a smile.

Obi-Wan tried to twist his face into some semblance of an appreciative smile but failed miserably.

"I'm going to apply the oil now." The healer leaned over and began smoothing oil onto the length of the apprentice's organ. "There now, little fellow, it will all be over soon," she softly crooned.

Obi-Wan flushed crimson and he looked away as the soothing massage touched off a spark of interest in his penis. That spark vanished quickly as the healer finished applying the oil and stretched it out on the plate.

"Stand as close as you can," the healer directed. "It will help if you hold the bar."

Tucking his testicles back as best he could, Obi-Wan obediently pushed his hips forward and placed both hands on the overhead bar.

The healer made a few final adjustments. "That should do it," she said as she pulled off the gloves with a snap. "Don't move." She flipped a switch.

When the now-familiar humming started Obi-Wan's sphincter tightened as well as his grip on the bar. He had to fight the urge to flinch back as the plate slowly moved down and made contact with the vulnerable flesh laid out on the bottom plate.

The pressure mounted as the plate kept moving. Obi-Wan watched in horrified fascination as his cock became flatter. . . flatter. . . and flatter still. Eventually he could take no more, closed his eyes and tightened his grip even further on the bar. He gritted his teeth and tried to focus on just enduring the hateful experience.

"Almost there." The healer began turning the small hand crank. "We want to make sure we get this one right, don't we?"

Not wanting to risk any movement that might cause yet another picture to be requested, Obi-Wan stood mutely as the crank kept turning. And turning. The pressure mounted and a small whimper escaped as Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut. A few more turns of the crank dragged forth another heart-felt whimper.

"Alright, don't move. Hold your breath on three. One, two and three."

The beeping seemed to continue for an eternity before the welcome call to stand down finally came. Obi-Wan drew several deep shuddering breaths as the healer released the plates. He stepped back gratefully.

"There are tissues in that box," said Master Zheraa. She sprayed a cleaner on the plates to remove the oil before pulling out the cassette. "I'll get this checked for you." She left the room.

Obi-Wan carefully wiped off his abused member, noting that the oil had turned the entire length to a medium blue color. He wrapped his towel around his waist and sat down to wait.

The wait was short this time. The door opened and the healer entered with a big smile on her face.

"The image is excellent so we are almost finished. This is the last form you need to sign, Padawan Kenobi. It says you have completed the required tests and received your outbrief card."

Obi-Wan scribbled a signature on the datapad and stuffed the proffered card into a pocket inside his robe. He threw on his clothes as the healer filed her forms away and cleaned off the plates again.

A healer apprentice appeared in the door. "If you are ready, Padawan Kenobi, Padawan L'vola will escort you out. Thank you for your cooperation. We should have the final results for you within the next five days." She paused, a slight smile on her face. "You might wish to refrain from sexual activity for a day or two as you may be a bit sore. If there is any swelling just put a cold pack on it for a while."

"I'm quite ready, Master Zheraa. Thank you," mumbled Obi-Wan as he grabbed his cloak and practically ran over the apprentice in his zeal to leave.

************* **************

"Master! I'm home," called Obi-Wan as he entered the shared quarters.

"I'm in the sleeping room," came a faint answer.

Obi-Wan flung his cloak onto the couch as he hurried into the sleeping room. He saw Qui-Gon lying naked on their large bed. In the dim light the master's flaccid green cock hung limply between his spread legs. He quickly took off his own clothes and climbed onto the bed.

"It was awful, Master," Obi-Wan wailed as he lay down next to his lover.

"I know, I know," said Qui-Gon as he drew his apprentice close for a comforting hug.

"They squashed my cock and my balls into jelly." Obi-Wan laid his head on Qui-Gon's chest.

"Then they made you wait while they looked at their pictures?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Yes, Master. Then the healer made me put it back into that machine and squashed it even harder." Obi-Wan hugged Qui-Gon even tighter. "And she called it a 'little fellow'," he added indignantly.

"My poor Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon crooned. He ran a gentle hand up and down his back. "They were very mean to you. But you stayed and did your duty. I'm very proud of you."

There was a long silence as the two Jedi hugged and petted to comfort each other, although their movements were constrained somewhat by their mutual desire to keep their 'fellows' from touching until they had recovered from the damage inflicted during the traumatic experience.

Qui-Gon's attention drifted off. "You know, this incident does provide an interesting insight into why the older female Jedi seem to have such a high pain tolerance," he murmured thoughtfully.

"Maassteeerrrrrr! I don't care if they can take a blaster shot at two feet and laugh at it. You're supposed to be taking care of *me*."

"Of course, of course," said Qui-Gon soothingly. "Believe me, I *do* feel your pain." He kissed the top of his abused lover's head.

Obi-Wan shifted carefully, trying to find a more comfortable position for his genitals. A hard flat corner bit him in the back, so he reached around to find the offending object. He recognized the card as the outbrief form from the healers.

Qui-Gon looked down. "I must have dropped that when I was undressing. Is there actually anything on there we should know?"

Obi-Wan began skimming over the description of the viral disease and the testing program, but paused when he got to the last few lines which had been printed in large letters.

"Oh Force," Obi-Wan groaned miserably. Qui-Gon leaned up on one elbow and together they read over the last section.

"Due to the exceptionally long incubation period of this virus, all potentially infected males will report back every three months for one standard year for another set of tests."

Two pale faces looked up at each other in horror, and together the anguished cry rang out:

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

finis


End file.
